Pursuing praxis

To commemorate achievement, to remember and inspire, we build glorious monuments for all to see.

Me, I build myself such that my life is a monument of achievement, upon which others may erect their own.

At the end of a civilization, the concrete hulks linger on, while the minds that made them are long gone.

I have again taken notice of some perhaps-odd traits about myself that deserve examination, evaluation, and integration into or out of my life.

I love getting rid of stuff. The fewer unnecessary things I have, the more possibilities I feel are open to me, and the more efficacious I feel. When I was a teenager, I secretly hoped to get kicked out of the house. First, because I was dying to be out on my own anyway, but it was smarter to stay if left up to me. But also because I absolutely relished the idea of what I simply call having to make decisions. I wanted my life and my well being to be utterly up to me, rise or fall, live or die - because I thought (and still think) that I can do it, that I can succeed, and better than most, too. I spent a lot of time just thinking out how I would do it, what I would need, what my best bets were, and a dozen back-up plans to boot. I wanted a take-no-prisoners, grit-in-your-teeth, bare-knuckles, empty-stomach approach to my own life. But I knew it was smarter to stay, even though it sucked the life out of me, because I thought (and knew) I could withstand the more civilized and insidious forms of warfare, and that in the end I’d be a stronger, smarter person for it. And I am, though it’s taken longer than I’d known to expect to achieve the personal (not professional) stature I’ve always envisioned for myself.

Which all goes back to the baseline observation that I do well under pressure. Like, fantastically well, on the whole. I thrive, though rest is eventually essential.

So the question is, how do I integrate this raw aspect of myself into a very civilized society and profession? I mean, hell, I hear Farrish Jenkins serves espresso in the field. Little cups and everything. And go for it, if it makes sense. But I want to keep my eyes on the struggle, even if no one else looks at it with me, because that’s what motivates me. The out-standing clashes, the conflict, the heat, the chipping away at perceived impossibility - these create the possibility of objective greatness.

Frills are for the party after the prize has been won.

I learned today that my idea was part of one of Aristotle’s categories (so Dave tells me; I haven’t verified this yet). Even though Aristotle didn’t get everything right, I feel fucking awesome that I converged on something so fundamental, although I do get considerably more exposure to fundamental ideas than the Greeks probably did. If you hadn’t noticed already, I was kind of hoping my idea had something to do with Aristotle, just out of sentimental reasons. True, it’s hard not to do something that was started by him. 

I wonder if Aristotle felt half as good as I did when I thought of it.

If I were to go back in history and make out with one man, it’d be Aristotle.

Regardless. I’m happy.